Chapter 8
Anastasia
“It is so not a date,” I say as I pull on a pair of leggings and slip into my favorite sweatshirt. “We’ve watched plenty of shows together.”
“That was before the guy told you how he felt,” Tessa counters.
“Exactly,” Katelyn agrees.
While I left out Sawyer’s heartbreaking backstory, I did tell my two best friends what he said about being friends with the hope of something more on the horizon. How could I keep news like that to myself?
“It’s an old TV show, dinner, and popcorn. It is not a date.” I slip a pair of fuzzy socks onto my feet and pull my hair back in a short ponytail.
Katelyn and Tessa exchange glances.
“You guys. Come on. You’re making me nervous.”
“But I thought it wasn’t a date?” Tessa asks sweetly.
“It’s not,” I insist. But the butterflies in my stomach say otherwise.
The truth is, even though we agreed to be just friends for now, things have shifted.
Lunch today proved that. Sawyer’s grins are different, and when we were cleaning up after lunch, I couldn’t help but notice how he watched me as if I were his sole focal point.
“You can’t pretend you didn’t notice how I looked at you.” Is it possible he’s been like this the entire time, and I just brushed it off because I wasn’t ready to see it?
“I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow for details,” Tessa says.
“Me, too. Garrison has already agreed to take Thomas to school,” Katelyn adds.
“You guys are ridiculous.” But the smile on my face only grows. Is this kind of a date? Or am I reading way too much into it?
“Ridiculous or not, we will be here.” Katelyn gets off my bed and stretches.
“Bright and early,” Tessa reminds me.
With a laugh, I leave my room and head out into the living room where the container of popcorn sits, ready to be popped. Of course, I’ll wait until he’s here, but just seeing it on the counter brings me such joy.
Sawyer is coming here.
Six months of not having my friend with me, and he’s going to be sitting right next to me on the couch, watching a silly TV show and eating dinner just like old times.
“Call us,” Tessa says as she pulls open the door. “You know, if there’s anything to call about.” As she’s leaving, she makes a kissy face at me. I roll my eyes and laugh, then continue wiping down my counters and making sure any dirty dishes are washed and set in the dryer rack.
My dryer beeps, signifying the end of the current load, so I move into the laundry room and make the switch. As I’m carrying the basket into my bedroom, the doorbell to my shop rings.
After checking the time, I see that Sawyer’s not due here for another ten minutes, and he has a key.
I leave the basket on my bed beside Axel, then head down the steps. A man is standing at the front door, wearing a brown courier’s uniform. He smiles at me through the window and waves, a small package in his hand.
Did I order something? My typical delivery isn’t for another few days. Still, I pull the door open. “Hi, can I help you?”
“That depends,” he replies, then checks the label on the package in his hand. “Are you Anastasia Knox?”
“I am.”
“Then here you go.” He smiles widely and offers me the package. “I hope you have a great day.”
“Thanks. You, too.” I smile at him, then close and lock the door. The package is small, maybe the size of the box one of my coffee mugs comes in. Curious, I set it on the counter and slice the tape open with a pair of scissors.
Inside, there’s a small stuffed animal. An orange cat with bright green eyes and a red collar.
Axel.
It looks just like him. Weird. I dump the box upside down to look for a note, but when none falls out, I set the box aside and study the cat. Who could have sent it? Anyone local would have just brought it over themselves. And I don’t have any friends outside of Stormwatch Landing.
Except for…Jack.
Did he send it?
The alarm system lets out a quick beep to let me know someone came in through the back door. Excitement shoves the questions aside, and I leave the gift on the counter to cross over toward where Sawyer is coming in, a takeout bag in his hands.
He’s showered, the day’s labor washed off of him, and is looking far too handsome for my own good in a pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt, a pair of tennis shoes on his feet.
Oh, boy. My pulse picks up the pace, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
“Ready to eat?”
“Absolutely.” I start to take the bag from him, but he shakes his head.
“My mission was food. And I plan to see it through.”
Laughing, I head for the stairs leading up to my apartment. I hold the door open for him so he can walk inside. And if I take a nice, deep breath as he moves close to me? Well, that’s just a coincidence.
He smells so good, too. Shouldn’t it be illegal for a man to look and smell this good? How am I supposed to keep it friendly when I’m already picturing his mouth on mine? What would it feel like?
Will he move slow? Or will the spark between us ignite upon contact?
Will it be a fast burn? Or a lasting firestorm?
“You okay?”
“Huh?” His question pulls me back to reality, and I realize that I’m still standing here, holding the door open, like an idiot. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I shut the door, then cross over toward the kitchen to pull some plates down while he unpacks the food.
It smells delicious.
“Burger with extra cheese and mayonnaise—still gross by the way—onion rings and a side of ranch.”
“If by gross you mean delicious, then sure.” I grin and take my plate, then carry it into the living room. As he finishes plating his food, I turn on the TV and pull up the first episode of Hogan’s Heroes.
Sawyer has no sooner sat down than Axel comes running out of the room and jumps up next to him on the couch. “Hey, buddy, you going to watch with us?” he asks, his tone the same one someone might use to talk to a toddler.
It’s adorable.
And then it hits me—Axel never came out when Jack was here.
If he happened to be out, he’d go back into the room within the first few minutes of Jack’s arrival. So what does it say that my kitty seems to adore Sawyer as much as I do? Is it because he remembers that he’s the one who saved him?
“Ready?” I ask.
Sawyer turns to me, his caramel eyes bright. That gaze drops to my mouth for just a split second, and my pulse races. Then, he meets my gaze again. “Baby, I’ve been ready.”
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.
“Then let’s get started.” I press play and set the remote down. As I focus on the show playing out before me, it’s all I can do to keep from scooting just a bit closer to the man beside me.
“You know, I think I would have been a good spy,” I say as I carry my plate into the kitchen. Sawyer is right behind me, his plate in hand since he refused to let me take it.
“You think so?” He rinses the plates and loads them into the dishwasher as I start heating the skillet I’ll make the popcorn in.
“I do. I mean, I’m kind of scrappy, right? And very resourceful.” I face him, leaning back against the island behind me.
Sawyer reaches out and brushes his thumb over my chin.
A shiver runs through me.
Want.
Need.
Desire.
“Plus, you have a very innocent face,” he adds with a crooked smile that undoes me right here where I stand.
Will you just kiss me already? I don’t need time. I need you.
As his hand drops, I laugh awkwardly. “Then how did you manage? Because you kind of look like an old man.”
Sawyer laughs, the tone deep and rich. “Didn’t you tell me just the other day that I had a baby face?”
I laugh. “I was being nice.”
He shakes his head. “Well, first off, I was never a spy.”
“Kind of, though, right? You guys did missions and all kinds of secretive stuff.”
“I’m a soldier,” he says. “I followed orders.”
“But you sought information. Cable Guy,” I add, using the code name he was assigned by the rest of his team.
My brother is Cap, despite not being an actual Captain, Garrison is Demo thanks to his knack for controlled explosions, Weston is Cowboy, and Ryker is Tank—for obvious reasons. The guy is huge.
Sawyer shrugs. “I still wouldn’t say spy.”
“Do you miss it?” I realize that I haven’t asked him that yet. The guy had his entire world changed less than a year ago, and I never bothered to find out how it affected him. What does that say about me? Or about him that he never let me see if it did?
“Sometimes,” he admits honestly. “I miss the feeling of doing something good. If that makes sense.”
“It does,” I reply.
“Even though things weren’t what they seemed, I always felt like we were acting in the best interests of innocent people.”
“I remember that last mission you guys went on. You came back so beat up.” Now it’s my turn to step forward and run the tips of my fingers along the side of his face.
He’d had a cut on his face, slicing right through his dark eyebrow.
Both his top and bottom lip were split, and his nose had been broken.
My breath catches when his eyes flutter closed and he leans into my touch.
Why can’t we stay just like this forever?
Sawyer takes a deep breath. “I took a few hits to draw attention from your brother. I’m practically a hero.”
I drop my hand and pull back. “Really?”
He nods. “Guy was working Cap over pretty good, so I did what I do best.”
“Taunted him into taking action against you?” With the pan hot, I distract myself by adding oil to it. Then, before it has the chance to get super-hot, I pour some popcorn in and place a lid over the top.
“Yep.”
“How?”
Sawyer grins. “I told him that I took his sister out. But it was all honorable. Very above board.”
Since the guys rarely—if ever—talk about their missions, this is the first time I’m hearing it. “You did not.”
“Oh, I did.” He grins proudly. “Drew the guy’s attention long enough that Demo was able to drop the ceiling in on us, saving your brother’s face from being permanently rearranged.”
“You really are quite the hero, aren’t you?” I cross my arms.
Sawyer pushes off the counter across from me and moves in close, planting both hands on either side of me. I’m caged in. The counter at my back, his strong body at my front.
Yet I’m so close to tasting freedom.
He leans in even closer. “You know, when you think about it, I really am.” His voice is low now, barely above a growled whisper.
I look up at him, not leaning in and not pulling away. If he kisses me right now—everything changes.
Oh, please kiss me.
A loud pop fills the room. Followed by another. And a dozen more.
But with Sawyer’s gaze on mine, focused and intent, it might as well be a million miles away.
“This is going to be hard.” He reaches up and runs one of his fingers over the curve of my jaw. That desire I felt earlier kicks into overdrive.
“What is?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Being just friends when I’ve finally admitted that I want so much more.”